


Weaker without you

by Tita



Series: Oh darling, we're mighty [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bullying, Growing Up Together, Homophobic Language, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Oh wait, Prom, Rimming, Smut, almost forgot!, done, i think that is it but if i missed something then sorry, okay ready?, powers au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tita/pseuds/Tita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry have superpowers but that doesn't really define their lives. What does is meeting each other, and school and prom and life and bullies. But they get through that together because they're harryandlouis and they were meant to be, right from the start.</p>
<p>Or, the one where they have powers and grow up together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weaker without you

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my big bang. It is not really traditional, i guess, since it is in three parts (and what you wanna do is read all three bc they're all really one big, weird fic!) but i love it quite a lot. It's been done for a while now, and I am so glad i didn't drop out. It's been really great, but i'll leave all the thanks on the endnotes of the kidfic which is really the end of this whole thing.  
> I do not own one direction, and owe this to one well timed 'The Incredibles' airing.  
> [ This](http://8tracks.com/tinao/weaker-without-you-1/) is the perfect fanmix made by the loveliest girl, Tina.

**_3 and 5_ **

Harry likes kindergarten. They have toys and storytime and also naptime just after cookies and milk. He has fun there, likes playing with the other kids that are like him.

There’s Allie, who can turn her toys into any colour she likes and also Ethan, who moves toys with his mind.

At kindergarten, Harry doesn’t get the nasty looks he gets while on playdates with other kids. No one scolds him when he accidentally grabs a toy too hard and breaks it or when he slams the door. Harry doesn’t mean to do that, he hates when it happens, but the teachers here understand and never make him feel bad for it, which is nice. Kids aren’t scared of playing with him and that may be what Harry likes the most.

He has _friends_ here, like Liam, who always makes him smile when hecolours too hard and breaks his favourite crayon **,** and Niall, who reminds Harry to be careful even though he’s the one who floats up by the ceiling. They like to play with him, don’t scoot away just because he’s different, and when they get together they make up the best games, like the time Harry threw cookie bits into the air and Niall caught them into his mouth while Liam giggled. Harry likes making people giggle.

They’re playing with some blocks when the teacher calls them over.

“Come on kids,” she says with the nice voice that Harry likes. The teachers never scream at them and he thinks that’s awesome. Harry hates it when people scream; it makes him feel scared and like he might cry.

“I want to introduce you to a new student who is starting today,” Miss May explains as everyone sits down. She extends her hand and a boy Harry has never seen before pops out of behind the door to take it. “This is Louis.”  His hair is light brown with a fringe, almost like Harry’s but lighter and much messier, and Louis seems to be peeking up at everyone from below it. Harry decides he likes him.

“Everyone please be nice and play with Louis so he likes it here, yeah?” The teacher asks and everyone nods, though they get up and go separate ways, leaving Louis all alone. That’s no good, Harry thinks, so when he gets up he walks towards Louis with his best smile.

When they’re standing in front of each other, Louis considers Harry.

“Your smile is really big,” he says, his hand outstretched to poke at Harry’s dimple. He doesn’t mind it since it’s making Louis smile a little and he looks nice like that.

“I’m Harry,” Harry offers.

“I’m Louis and I’m five,” Louis states, pausing for a second before adding, "How old are you?” as he bounces from one leg to the other.

“I’m three,” Harry answers, scrubbing his small sneaker into the carpet. His mummy says it’s not a nice thing to do but he can’t help it. Louis makes him all bubbly inside.

“Wanna play with some blocks?” He asks, hoping Louis says yes. Not many of his friends like blocks but Harry loves them and he can never find another boy to play with. It’s much less fun to play alone.

“Blocks are for babies,” Louis sentences, his tiny arms crossed out over his chest.

He’s being mean, and Harry’s eyes begin to water at the edges.

“No they’re not!” He complains, stomping his foot and making his grumpy face for good measure.

“Yes they are. I know so because I’m five and we don’t play with blocks,” Louis explains. His feet have never stopped moving and Harry wishes he could just go.

“Well I like them, and if you stop being mean you can come play with me,” Harry says, hoping that Louis will take back what he said and stop being a meanie. He really wants a block partner, but Louis needs to behave or he's  going to scream and they can’t have that. No screaming, that’s the friend rule.

He doesn’t answer though, and Harry waits for him for as long as it takes to count to five Mississippi before leaving for the blocks. He’s kind of sad that Louis isn’t as nice as he’d seemed, and as Harry picks up one block and then another **,** a shadow falls over him.

“I’m sorry,” Louis says, his hands together and head bowed down. “Can I play now?”

“You’re weird,” Harry notes, but scoots over and pats the floor. “Come play.”

They play all through the afternoon, even though Louis wants to build a fort and Harry wants to build a house and they have to compromise and they lose some blocks in the process. Harry realizes that Louis does things faster than he does and sometimes gets tired of waiting for him but it’s okay, they still play (and fight a bit, but it works).

When Harry’s mum comes to fetch him he doesn’t want to leave, but Miss May promises Louis will still be there, so he kisses him on the cheek and waves as his mother takes him to the car. Then, he tells his mummy all about his new friend with the blue eyes.

“He's like z _oom zoom_ mum,” Harry says, indicating with his chubby small hands something Anne fails to get. “And he didn’t get angry when the red block broke.”

She smiles at Harry through the rearview mirror when she makes the promise to take him extra early the next day so he can get the best toys for Louis.

From then on, it is always ‘Early, Mum! For Lou’.

 

**_8 and 10_ **

“Harry, come on!” Louis calls as he sets off running towards the football pitch at an unmatchable speed.

The sun is shining down on them, and the grass is finally dry from the heavy rain that’s been going on for most of the week. Harry’s eyes hurt as he looks up, the beams illuminating his whole face as he walks forward and decides that yes, it’s okay to go out already. Louis is a small figure on the faraway pitch now, and Harry groans as he stalks forward, too tired to walk all the way but doing so just because it _is_ Louis.

A lot of things seem to be _just because it’s Louis_ lately; or maybe they have always been, Harry really can’t tell.

“You know I’m just gonna suck at it, Lou,” he calls as he nears the end of the pitch.

Harry’s new trainers are bright white against the grass while he scruffs them along it, and he realizes he’s nervous when his eyes won’t meet Louis’. It makes no sense, it's only his best friend hanging with him like he does every day, and Harry has never been nervous around him. It must be the odd weather. Yes, that must be it.

Shaking the confusing thoughts from his mind, Harry takes the remaining steps until he’s face to face with Louis, who extends the ball towards him as an incentive, or maybe a silent agreement that they’ll have fun no matter what. They’re playing together and that’s what matters, Harry guesses. He stretches to take the ball, but it disappears under his hands.

“Too slow!”  Louis screams joyfully, now on the other side of the pitch.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Harry complains, crossing his arms and remaining rooted to the spot even though his eyes trail behind Louis’ buzzing figure curiously. His friend pops up next to him seconds later.

“Come on, for real this time.” Louis says, passing the ball onto Harry’s hands with a smile.

Harry drops and kicks it, both boys running behind it as the ball bounces off.

They both know it isn’t an even match, not with Harry’s two left feet and Louis’ extreme speed and knack for the sport, but they play nonetheless, Harry running behind Louis and giggling when he kicks the ball everywhere but into the goal.

When they decide to end the match, Louis has a total of eleven goals and Harry has one that Louis accidentally allowed while he was laughing at Harry’s skill.

Tired and mildly sweaty, they're lazing on the grass, ignoring the fact that their mothers will be upset at the grass stains, and deciding to go home since the sun has begun to setalready. _Stupid winter,_ Harry thinks.

When they reach the end of the field, Harry spots them.

“Oh no,” he mutters under his breath, steps halting and head dropping.

“What is it, Harry?” Louis wonders, looking back at him with confused eyes.

“Can we just,” Harry tries explaining, breaking off his sentence to stare at the group of boys approaching them and huffing out a nervous breath. “Can we just take another way, Lou? Come on,” he pleads, taking several steps back in the opposite direction.

Louis doesn’t follow him. Instead, Harry looks back and finds his friend rooted to the spot, with that damned determined look on his face.

“I am not going anywhere until you tell me-” “Look who’s here, the sissy!” Louis is interrupted by a loud voice coming from the group, now only a few meters away.

Louis faces Jake with the type of cross look Harry has ever seen on his face once (when Phoebe erased his whole Mario game on the console) and he cringes.

Jake is the typical bully, taller than them, with an unflattering buzzcut and a permanent scowl that Harry has begun to fear.

“Let’s go, Louis, please,” he silently begs, eyeing the smirk Jake has on his face. He really doesn’t fancy seeing Louis go up against that boy, doesn’t want him to sport the same bruises Harry’s been hiding since last week.

“No, Harry,” Louis shoots back, walking over and standing between Harry and the sneering group. “What did you just call him?” he demands.

Jake snorts. “The boyfriend protects him, aww,” he mockingly coos, taking a step towards them. “I called him a pussy, a defenseless wimp, any problem?”

Harry winces. Louis takes a step forward and grips Jake by the shoulders harshly.

“Don’t call him that,” he says, and Harry is too far away but he can guess Louis is doing that thing where his face scrunches up and his eyes turn icy blue.

“Or what?” Jake asks just as Louis disappears from his spot, leaving the other boy talking to thin air.

His body slows down and becomes more defined as he stops behind Jake, smug grin on his face when he taps his shoulder and Jake startles. The look on his eyes goes from surprise to fear as Louis buzzes from one spot to another in the blink of an eye, the reaction mirrored on the faces of his small gang.

“Or you’ll regret it.” Louis says, relishing in the emotions he’s managed to inspire. He then runs around them twice in a moving dash of colour, just to show off, Harry is sure, before slowing down and returning to Harry’s side.

The group of boys look at them once and then simply turn around and leave, Harry’s surprise splashed across his features.

“Yeah, that’s right, boys,” Louis calls behind them before Harry places a hand over his mouth, smiling softly at his friend’s antics.

He starts walking and Louis follows, but it’s not the same playful atmosphere they’d had before. Instead it’s silent and tense, Harry willing Louis to not ask about the situation and Louis wondering how to go about it. Neither boy utters a word until they reach Harry’s house, where Louis tugs at his friend’s arm and stands face to face with him.

“What was _that,_ Haz?” He enquires, blue locking with saddened green.

“Nothing,” Harry mumbles, eyes on the ground like magnets, hands playing with his tee.

“I’m not stupid,” Louis says, voice going soft as he follows Harry and sits on the steps of the house. He looks sideways at his friend and sighs, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell me those kids were bothering you?” Louis asks, watching with a sad expression as Harry’s eyes glaze over with tears.

“What difference would it make? It would just make them insult me even more **.** ” Harry responds, eyes meeting Louis’. He feels resigned.

“But why don’t you defend yourself, Harry? You could easily take them down **.** ” Louis says, voicing the question he’s had bubbling since they began their walk home.

“Yeah but it wouldn’t be fair, Lou. If they hit me, all I get is bruises, but if I hit them back I can do a lot more. And I’m not gonna do that,” Harry explains, knowing Louis will get what he means even if he doesn’t like it.

The thing is, the world they live in is fairly relaxed when it comes to other people’s powers. Doctors have found that they occur within family lines, carried by a single gene that mutates during reproduction so that every power is unique. Some people insist that powers are linked to potential personalities, but the theory is unclear, and anyways, people with powers and people without them live side by side with no visible division from the moment they’re born when the gene manifests until they die.

Sure, sometimes anti-discrimination agencies battle for one thing or another, but life for people like him and Louis is simple. Go to school, study, and know that in the future you’ll be whatever you want--though some people decide to become X agents and use their powers to help the police (Harry has always admired the X agents ever since his grandmother showed him pictures of her days as one).

Harry wants to live a normal life until he’s old enough to put his gift to a good use, doesn’t think it’s right to abuse other simply because he can. Sometimes he and Louis disagree on the issue but he’s proven right when Louis just sighs loudly and pats his shoulder.

“You are _too_ good.”

Later, when they’re playing tag and Louis accidentally hits one of Harry’s bruises, he kisses it better and tickles Harry until they’re a laughing heap on the grass. It’s enough for the moment.

 

**_13 and 15_ **

Harry slams his locker door shut as the last bell for the day rings, the sweet knowledge that he has two empty days ahead refreshing as that morning’s shower. Tiredness washes over him as he shuffles towards Niall, his blonde friend struggling with a pile of books.

The hallway is still full of people eager to go home, drumming feet and a chatter that grows into a crescendo until it becomes static in Harry’s ears. He just wants to go home.

“Ready?” He asks Niall, whose pile of books looks dangerously close to falling.

“Yeah, just a second,” his friend answers, arranging some items inside his locker as Harry leans against the wall next to it.

He can barely keep his eyes open but somehow he manages to watch as Niall leaps back and his books fall in slow motion, his hand stretching out and grazing the spine of the biology textbook uselessly. Harry hears Niall curse under his breath while he crouches and starts picking up some of the books, his green eyes locking on someone some meters away.

Harry awkwardly shuffles towards it, but when he goes to pick it up, a slim, tan hand beats him to it. Looking up, he realizes whose hand it is and freezes, his green eyes wide in recognition and perhaps regret. _Louis._

He hasn’t changed, is the thing. Louis’ open, blue eyes are still that shade he remembers whenever he feels nostalgic, his smile is still white as the sun they played under and _dammit_ there goes his heart. It’s easily identifiable as longing, for their friendship, for a repeat of the summers they were together, for Louis. The thing is, it’s a feeling that hasn’t gone away, not since that dreadful night and the following week, no. It’s three years old and, unfortunately, still growing.

“Here, mate,” Louis offers, handing over the blue item and locking eyes with Harry, who can't help but sigh at the choice of words. _Mate; funny it’s been years since we’ve been that._

Harry takes the book and turns to go back to Niall, but instead of giving a step he bumps against a hard surface. Startled, he realizes it’s someone, a boy specifically, and his scared eyes dawn upon the muscular figure of Jake.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” He starts, hands flying up on instinct and book pathetically falling to the floor with one low thump when he’s interrupted.

“Styles? You mean to do that?” Jake asks, his tone menacing and body getting closer to Harry’s, caging him against the locker.

Harry thinks he can see people gathering around, a few panicked faces and _shit, no_ Louis’ own blue eyes trained on them as his heart beats roaringly loud on his ear.

“No! No, Jake it was an accident,” he tries to fix, cringing when he realizes what it sounded like.

“Was it? It felt a lot more like you just tried to push me.”

“What? No, no-” Harry tries to fix, hands desperately scrambling around as Jake crushes him against the locker, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Harry’s heart is rushing, his cheeks flushed from embarrassment and eyes open in pure fear. He is several pounds lighter and years younger than Jake, and he knows from past experiences that the punch Jake is preparing to give him isn’t going to hurt so much as stain his skin but it is still going to embarrass him and make his mother worry.

When he sees Jake’s fist pull back he closes his eyes, a whimper falls from his lips as he waits for the punch.

It doesn’t happen.

A second passes and then another, Harry growing confused and so daring a peek at what’s happening.

The first thing he sees is the back of Louis’ head, his thin, brown hair a few centimeters above his eyes. Then, he notices that Louis is talking with Jake, almost whispering to him menacingly, but the sound of his blood thumping roars above the conversation. Harry barely sees (Louis’ shoulder is in the way and he has to get on his toes) Jake grunt and leave, the crowd following him and leaving Harry to slump against the locker, tears about to well up from the fear.

He feels the trail of wetness form on his cheek as he clutches his bag, mortified and scared but above all, _confused_ about what happened. Louis has never glanced his way, not since Harry was ten and in that bed and had leaned in and- _made the biggest mistake in my life,_ he reminds himself.

“You okay?” Harry hears Louis ask above him, and Harry figures he’s made a fool of himself long enough and is now entitled to go home. At least he’ll be able to cry in peace there.

Standing up, Harry finds Louis and nods, picking up his bag and hoping that his eyes convey how thankful he is for his actions. “Thanks,” he adds, just to make sure.

“It’s okay,” Louis smiles, his lips pulled thin over his mouth. He seems thoughtful.

He begins to walk down the now deserted hall on his way to the door but Louis appears next to Harry, his own backpack thrown over his back as he walks faster to keep up with him. This is new.

“Still against using your strength, I see,” Louis notes, pace matching Harry’s as they leave the school.

Harry simply nods, still trying to figure out why Louis is doing this, acting all friendly when they haven’t so much as spoken in so long. It’s too drastic of a change and it’s disconcerting, to say the least.

“You shouldn’t let him do that, though,” Louis continues as he glances over to Harry, his blue eyes focusing on the boy whose head is bent down in shame. Harry looks up.

“He’s just looking for a reaction,” he answers. “I kinda like not giving it to him, it’s like my own kind of satisfaction.”

“Beating his ass would be a lot more satisfactory.” Louis shoots back, smirking. It feels like they never parted ways. Harry shrugs.

They seem to be heading for Harry’s house but he isn’t paying much attention to anything besides his own thoughts until he realizes Louis actually remembers where he lives. Harry’s heart shouldn’t jump at that.

When they reach Harry’s door ten minutes after they left from school, they face each other awkwardly, Harry wondering what it all means and Louis as if deciding whether to say something or not. He seems to decide he should as his mouth opens and Harry stares at him.

“Can I come in?” He asks in a light tone. Harry can tell he’s thinking everything twice, he is too, but he’s only seen Louis nervous a few times in his life. It makes Harry anxious.

“Sure.”

The house is silent, the only sound coming from the television in the living room where his mum must be. Harry closes the door quietly and takes off his shoes, turning around to instruct Louis to do the same when he finds that he’s already done so.

He tries not to look into it too much as he motions for Louis to follow him, walking slowly towards the stairs when he hears his mother call out, “Harry, are you there?”

Sighing, Harry heads towards the living room, Louis in tow.

“Yeah mum, I’m here,” he announces, his sock clad feet sliding over the wooden floor.

They find her lounging on the couch and she sits up when they enter, her eyes widening perceptibly when she spots Louis.

“Louis, I didn’t know you were here!” She says, giving Harry a strange look he responds with one he hopes conveys _‘be cool, mum’_.

“Yes , he’s just coming in for a bit.” Harry explains, motioning towards the stairs with his head.

He can barely process what’s going on. If his mother were to start acting like this is some major event, which it is for Harry but probably not for Louis, Harry doesn’t know how he himself would react.

The two of them climb up the stairs, Harry wondering what will happen next and Louis taking in the house as if he’s never been in it before.

“Sorry for the mess,” Harry excuses as he opens the door to his room. It occurs to him that the only people to have seen it are Niall, Louis and his mother, all of whom he loves or loved in some way. Curious.

“It’s okay,” Louis says as he walks farther into the room, Harry’s palms sweating as if he’s ten and looking for Louis’ approval again. “It’s not like mine is better, really.”

“Yeah,” Harry answers lamely, eyes darting around but returning to Louis after a moment.

Neither of them speak and the tension is so palpable it is making both of them clearly uncomfortable. Harry wants to say something, but how can he when he’s never felt this lost? He needs Louis to explain, to give him something to work out the jumbled mess of question marks in his head.

Instead of talking, Louis goes over to Harry’s shelf and picks up a small, plastic car, holding it in his palm as he turns around to face Harry.

“You kept this?” Louis asks, and Harry nods.

“Couldn’t throw it away,” he explains, cheeks splashed with red.

The car had been a gift from Louis, won at a fair they’d been allowed to visit alone when Louis had turned thirteen. Harry had been eyeing it all night, and Louis had played the game four times to get it for him.

It had been one of the times when Harry had felt truly happy, there on the lit up fair clutching the toy and looking straight at Louis. Too bad the memory was overshadowed by what had happened hours later.

Louis’ face softens at that and he sighs, sitting down on Harry’s bed and toying with the car to keep himself busy.

“I’m sorry,” Is the first thing he says, his blue eyes lifting from the shiny metal of the car to meet Harry’s surprised green ones.

“I am so, so sorry Harry,” Louis repeats, had shaking and voice trembling softly. “I was such a dick that night and from then on, I just--” he pauses, taking in a deep breath. “It was scary, you know? I was thirteen and all my friends talked about was tits and girls and I just didn’t really care about that. I thought I was like bad or something but then you-- you kissed me and it was _too much_ and I’m sorry. I shouldn't have been like that and I really want you to bug me again with that stupid hair of yours.” Louis finishes, a small smile tugging at his lips with the last words.

“My hair isn’t stupid!” Harry defends weakly, smiling back. His eyes sting a little from the words and the memories of that night and the horrible weeks when he just called and called and Louis wouldn’t pick up, would always be “out” of his house, but he still accepts Louis’ apology.

Louis seems to realize he’s been forgiven, so he stands up and engulfs Harry in a hug, tucking his head over Harry’s shoulder now that Harry has grown enough to allow it.

“I missed you.” he whispers, just loud enough for Harry to hear.

“Me too.” Harry whispers back, hoping that Louis won’t backtrack and ignore him the next day at school.

He doesn’t.

 

**_15 and 17_ **

“You should ask him to prom, Harry.” Niall says, nudging him with his shoulder.

They’re sitting under the big oak tree in the schoolyard, the shade a shelter from the sun. It’s May, the school year nearing its end and a kind of peace has settled over the boys. Sure, the dance is approaching rapidly--it’s week, in fact--but with the weight of exams freshly lifted, they don't care much.

Harry shakes his head and lifts his gaze from where Louis is hugging Daniel to focus on Niall again. “He’s got Daniel.” he explains, his voice tainted with a sadness he can’t conceal.

“Yeah, but he’s a prick,” Niall shoots back. “You and Lou would make a fucking amazing couple.”

“Maybe,” Harry answers, thoughtful. “But it’s still up to Louis, if he wants to be with Daniel he should.”

Niall looks at him as if he’s grown a third eye.

He doesn’t understand Harry sometimes, doesn’t gethow Harry can hold back while Louis kisses his current boyfriend, goes on about lucky Daniel endlessly while they have lunch. But on Harry’s side, it’s an easy choice between confessing to Louis and ruining what they have and them being friends while Louis is with someone else.

Yes, it hurts _a lot_ when Louis goes back to someone that isn’t him, but the way they hang out, the way Harry can make Louis laugh when they’re together, he can’t sacrifice that even for something as great as love, or what he’s pretty sure is love anyways.

The bell rings and students get up from their spots with a groan and walk toward the building, Harry and Niall following the masses.

The uneventful day passes by thankfully fast, and by four pm Harry is already shirtless and splayed on his bed, algebra homework thrown off to the side. He just can’t stop thinking about the upcoming dance and how much he wants to see Louis’ smile twinkle under the christmas lights he saw being installed earlier.

Harry really wants to go with someone, has gotten several invitations from shy girls via letters and one or two bold boys, but it doesn’t feel right if he isn’t with Louis. And going with Louis is not an option, so Harry is seriously debating whether or not to even bother in going to the dance. Niall isn’t very helpful either, just smacks Harry on the head and calls him “dumb lovestruck fool.”

Harry’s phone rings just as he’s about to roll over and call Niall. It’s a text.

_wanna come over?_

It’s from Louis, and Harry slips on his shoes as a routine, the process painfully familiar from the countless times he’s gone over to Louis’ place upon invitation (and need to see him, sometimes).

It takes him ten minutes to get there, and by the time Jay lets him in and he climbs the stairs, Louis has sent him two more texts.

_Come on you snail!!_

_Harold!_

“You know I can’t teleport, right?” Harry calls as he pushes open Louis’ door, smirking when he finds Louis’ own homework neglected in a corner.

“Oh believe me dear, I know,” Louis says, swivelling around on his desk chair as Harry plops down on his bed. “It would be a wicked power, though, you could teleport _and_ crushing large objects.”

Harry smiles since he knows Louis doesn’t mean it when he mocks his power. Then, Louis’ cell phone rings over by his bedside table, Harry stretching out to grab it and toss it over to his friend, his chest tightening slightly when Louis answers with a “Hey Dan.”

He stays silent while Louis talks, concentrating on the Beckham posters and trying not to eavesdrop. When five minutes go by, Harry hears Louis hang up and a second later and sees him throw himself on top of Harry, whose heart begins to quicken.

Louis is just so warm, and _there_ and Harry can’t help it when he runs a hand through the fine strands of hair atop Louis’ head. He thinks maybe Louis is leaning into his touch, but it’s probably wishful thinking on his part.

Louis mumbles something into Harry’s neck, but he completely misses what it is because of the way Louis’ soft lips move against his sensitive skin. Harry has to hold back a shiver.

“You need to speak louder, Lou.” Harry instructs, feeling Louis’ breath on his skin and his body shift away so that he can talk. Maybe Harry wishes he hadn’t spoken.

“We need to go suit shopping, I need a grey one,” Louis says, voice clear now. “Dan is gonna wear a black one and he doesn’t want to match, or something.”

Harry cringes at that, swallowing the ‘ _I’d wear matching sparkly plaid suits if you wanted me to’_ that threatens to escape. Instead, he nods.

 *

At the store, Harry begins to regret tagging along.

There are racks and racks of suits and Louis looks beautiful in each one of them, even in the striped one Harry pushed him into trying just for laughs. The dark colours easily highlight the blue in his eyes, and Harry is one pair of tight pants away from getting an unfortunate boner.

“How about this one, babe?” Louis asks while he steps out of the dressing room and Harry’s mouth dries up.

Louis just looks absolutely _gorgeous_ in the grey suit he’s wearing, a navy pocket square peeking from the pocket. His hair is messy and down in Harry’s preferred style and his sheepish smile is doing things to Harry, mainly creating a swarm of butterflies in his stomach.

“That looks, uh-” Harry tries, clearing his parched throat. “Looks really good, Lou.”

There’s a sadness that he can’t shake off, the incessant thought of _‘I wish i got to have you like this’_  that resonates in his head, but Harry tries his best to push it down, nearly having an attack when Louis smiles at him and goes back into the dressing room. He really is making it hard for Harry not to declare his affection then and there.

It doesn’t get easier as the week passes and the school’s buzz about the graduation gets more and more noticeable, the banners and chatter impossible to ignore.

Niall stops trying to get Harry to ask Louis to prom when the latter announces he and Dan are going full out, a limo and everything. From then on, Niall eyes Harry pityingly and suggests they go in a group, with Zayn and Liam as well since they’re so thick they haven’t asked each other out yet.Harry agrees since he supposes it’s better than spending his Friday alone in bed and watching reruns of Friends.

Anne isn’t too thrilled when she finds out her son has no date, and she complains for a second about not getting to take embarrassing pictures, but then she pauses and eyes Harry the same way Niall has been all week: with sadness and pity.

“Louis is still with that Daniel guy?” She enquires, head tilted to the side.

“Yeah,” Harry confirms as Anne stretches out her arms to envelop him in a hug.

Harry bends his knees a little so she can rest her head atop his curly mane, and he relaxes under the soft rubs Anne gives him.

“He’ll come around, dear, don’t worry,” she comforts, and Harry nods somewhat hopefully, thankful that his mother is so perceptive.

He really isn’t sure about anything anymore.

 *

The day of the dance, Harry wakes up with a heavy heart. It’s not that he isn’t excited or anything, it’s just, well, it’s not at all what he’d pictured his prom to be. In his own version, Louis would come by and get him and they’d dance off into the sunset or some other Nicholas Sparks cliché while soft music played in the background.

Instead, he gets a calming shower and a stiff suit, and his mother yelling for him to hurry up while he forces a strand of hair to comply. Harry is moderately happy, he guesses, but he practices smiling in the mirror just in case. He still sees a reflection of the disappointment he can’t help but let invade his insides, so he stops.

Anne doesn’t pick up on his mood straight away. She coos over him and takes a million pictures before she notes the plasticity of his smile, how his cheeks aren’t dimpled and his eyes aren’t twinkling.

Her own smile dims and she tuts as Harry leans into her outstretched arms.

“Try to have a good time, yeah?” she soothes as she runs her hand through his gel-stiff curls. “I know it’s not what you wanted but it’s still something and the boys will be there. It’ll be like any hangout just with fancy clothes.”

Harry chuckles softly at that.

The limo arrives shortly after, and as Harry climbs into the backseat he can’t help but smile.

Niall is wearing a tux that is too short on the sleeves, but his easygoing smile and flushed cheeks make up for it as he topples over Harry in a well intended hug. Some other dateless boys are also there, and it feels like a comunity, like they’re the travelling circus of forever alone’s or something like that.

The school isn’t too far away, but as Harry sits back he can’t shake the feeling that something is missing, that the body next to his is all wrong, too tall and not curvy enough. Niall’s okay, but he’s not Louis.

In a weak attempt to wash away the frequent pangs in his chest, he texts Louis.

_have you guys arrived already?_

It’s simple and it conveys none of Harry’s sadness. Perfect.

His phone pings a second later.

_not going. dan decided to go w lana instead_

He stares at the words for about a minute before his brain kicks in.

There is no way Louis is voluntarily skipping prom, mostly because of two things. First, prom is the one reason to wear the tux they’d bought and hadn’t stopped raving about for the whole week, and second, Louis loves any chance he gets to dance with his friends. It just makes no sense he’d cancel it so abruptly and not say a thing.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, mate?” Niall asks as he slides next to Harry, his cup of what is most surely beer sloshing around dangerously.

“Louis. He’s not coming,” Harry answers, the semi cheerful facade he was putting on now absent.

“What? Why?”

“Said Daniel went with someone named Lana instead.”

“Oh shit, his ex?” Niall asks as if Harry is supposed to know, but then, it clicks for Harry.

Clumsily pushing some kid aside he lowers the driver’s window and asks him to ‘stop, please, just pull over’, opening the door and stumbling into the street moments later.

“What are you doing Harry?” Niall exclaims with his crazy head of bleached hair poking out through the sunroof of the car.

“I gotta find him Ni, I’ll text you later!” Harry shoots back as he starts running down the street he luckily recognizes.

As his fancy shoes slap against the asphalt in quick succession Harry thinks he hears a _‘that crazy motherfucker_ ’ in a known irish brogue, followed by a loud engine sound and an shrill scream of pure, Niall-style glee. He can’t help but laugh softly and trip on his feet.

The streets are quiet, porch lights on and flickering, insects chirping along as if musicians to Harry’s epic journey towards Louis’ house.

It’s not far, not with how each step he takes is eight feet long, and it’s not difficult but somehow it feels monumental, as if Harry getting there, doing whatever it is he’ll do-- he’s working on his idea, and everything is happening too fast-- will change him and Louis. And yet, he doesn’t worry.

The plunging feeling inside his chest dissipates as he runs and Harry doesn’t doubt his actions for even a second; is fiercely determined when he pushes through the tomlinson’s fence door (careful not to tear it off like he’s done in the past) and onto their porch.

Slightly sweaty hands ring the doorbell, and as the hall light flickers on and Harry hears footsteps his bravado wavers.

“Who’s knocking at this hour?” Is the first thing Jay says before her head peeks through the crack in the door, the confusion in her tone tangible. Her head leans to the side when she notes it’s Harry.

Jay’s eyes trail down Harry’s figure and when she takes in his tux and styled hair, Harry thinks he hears a sigh escape her lips.She takes a step back and opens the door for Harry to come in, his attire contrasting comically with her robe and slippers.

“I just need to talk to Lou for a second, can I?” he asks, shuffling his feet against the carpet in a nervous reflex he can’t control. All his courage just seems to have vanished as soon as he stepped in, and he kind of needs it now.

“I don’t know if that’s for the best dear, you see he-”

“Harry?”

It all seems to happen in slow motion from then.

Harry whips his head towards the origin of the interruption as fast as he can, mouth falling open in a surprised “oh” when he realizes that the figure standing in the stairs with crossed arms is none other than Louis. He is dressed in joggers and a ratty shirt like he’s been lounging around all day, but Harry can see the carefully styled hair atop his head that indicates otherwise.

“What are you doing here?” Louis asks and Harry gulps audibly. Here it comes.

“Come to prom with me.”

He says it directly to Louis, his green eyes meeting blue and holding his gaze almost pleadingly. There’s nothing more that he wants than to spend the night dancing with Louis, finally getting to hold him as close as he’s always wanted, and the seconds Louis debates with himself silently are making Harry’s heart race violently.

“You don't need me, you already have a bunch of friends there, Harry.” Louis notes, trying to reason with him but Harry just shakes his head.

“Yeah, but I’ve got no date,” he dares, and Louis sucks in a breath. A silent moment passes.

“You want _me_ to be your date?” he checks, unsure, and Harry smiles while he nods.

Louis is then racing down the remaining stairs and crashing into Harry with a hug, the force of it making Harry stumble a few steps back.

“Really?” Louis checks.

“Only want you, Lou.” Harry confirms, adding a soft kiss on the cheek as a reassurance.

Louis blushes a little.

Jay coughs behind them and they hastily separate, both of them suddenly timid.

“Okay now then, go along Lou. You can’t go in joggers, can you?” She teases and Louis grins up at Harry before he dashes up the stairs at light speed, reappearing in a suit a minute later.

“That as fast as you could do Louis? Your age is affecting you.” Harry teases, and Louis sticks his tongue out at him as he walks over to stand by him.

“Pictures boys, pictures!” Jay exclaims when they take a step towards the door, both of them groaning internally but standing together stiffly to make her happy.

“Oh, come on,” Jay prods, shooting them a look that makes them both laugh.

Harry tentatively wraps his arm around Louis’ waist, and when he looks at him Louis’ blush hasn’t died down one bit. Harry thinks he really likes this look on Louis.

They take some more pictures and then they’re off, Louis suggesting they run and Harry glaring at him for as long as he can hold his fondness in (0.1 seconds). Jay throws Louis the keys and that’s that, both boys climbing into the car and fidgeting uncharacteristically the whole ride.

Harry can’t help it, he’s nervous as can be. He is really scared of ruining things with his weirdness now that he has a shot with Louis, and the thought alone of things going to hell between them makes him sweat. Louis isn't helping the situation with his silence either.

When they pull over, Louis cuts off the engine but doesn’t get out. Instead, he turns around in his seat to face Harry.

_oh no, he’s realized this is a mistake oh no, he’ll hate me_

“Are you doing this out of pity?”

Louis’ question takes Harry by surprise, because he’d thought all doubts had been cleared at his house, so he shakes his head while he thinks of what he wants to say next.

“Lou, I asked you to come with me because I’ve had the most ridiculous crush on you ever since I was seven and we watched the power rangers in our pajamas.”

Louis looks up from his skittish hands at that, face completely blank, and Harry figures he should go all out since he’s in so far, right?

“And you’ve taken it badly in the past, and then there was Daniel and all, so I am really scared, but what I want the most right now is to go in there and have a great time with my favourite boy that I hope is not going to run off now. Please don't hate me.”

Harry finishes talking and slumps back. There, he’s said it all. There’s nothing else he can do now.

“Of course I’m not gonna run away and hate you, you goof, I sort of have a crush on you too,” Louis says, bashful.

Harry thinks there might be an explosion inside him, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it much because Louis is pulling him in by the lapels and soft lips are now on his.

It’s short and sweet, the angle somewhat odd, but it leaves both boys with silly grins on their faces as they separate and Harry goes around to open Louis’ door.

After they take some steps Louis seems to rethink something as he halts and tugs Harry’s sleeve to get his attention.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry I tried to date other people to avoid this-” He says, quiet and shy as he gestures between them and admits his mistake. “Daniel was an idiot and I’m glad I’m here with you now.” He adds, pecking Harry lightly on the lips again before he lets go and takes his hand, smile now in place. Harry smiles at him right back, his silent ‘ _It’s okay, I was scared too’_ implied.

The last of the students are making their way down the parking lot and into the school, and as Harry walks along Louis, their intertwined hands shake with anticipation of all the fun that tonight promises.

 

**_18 and 20_ **

“Hey beautiful.”

Harry turns around at that, grinning when he finds Louis crowding him up against the lockers. He’s got his jersey still on, is fresh out of footie practice most likely, and even though his frame is significantly smaller than Harry’s, Louis still makes him feel like the little one.

“Hi, Lou.” Harry greets him, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Louis doesn’t seem to want that though, for he presses in hard, his lips smooth as they mould against Harry’s. His body is awfully close, the heat of it warming Harry up, and the hands he has caging his boy in move in closer. It’s like they’ve momentarily created this bubble that Harry can’t think out of, not when Louis is nipping on his lower lip and moving his hand to rest on Harry’s hip, his thumb grazing the soft skin under his shirt. Harry shivers and pulls at the soft hairs behind Louis’s neck--his favourite spot-- smiling softly when Louis presses in closer at that.

Someone coughs behind them and Harry snaps out of it, playfully pushing a reluctant Louis away.

Turns out to be Niall, who is rolling his eyes but smiling fondly at them.

“Are you guys gon’ come over for some pints at mine tonight?” Niall asks with the excitement he always sports when beer is involved.

Harry starts to say yes but Louis speaks first, a smug tint to his words.

“No can do, Niall, I’m stealing your boy for the weekend.” he announces and Harry gapes at him.

They barely get to spend quiet time together, always being forced to go out for a coffee or a movie or sometimes dinner rather than having time to relax at home. It’s not the easiest of tasks, having a boyfriend in university two hours away, but it’s what they need to do and they do it with minimal protest (on Harry’s side at least).

Louis has a roommate though, and he is the grumpiest person in the world, always complaining about Harry and never letting them have the room for themselves. That amounts to quite some piled up sexual frustration between them, so it’s only natural that Harry’s heart begins racing at the idea of a whole weekend with Louis.

“What about Nathan?” Harry asks.

“At his parent’s house for three days.” Louis answers, his smirk turned into a leer that makes Harry feel hot under his shirt.

“We’re all alone.” Louis confirms as if it weren’t implied before.

“Okay, I’m out,” Niall says then, apparently done with the heated air between the two boys.

“Call me on Sunday if you even remember how to speak!” he exclaims as he bounces down the hall, Harry blushing and Louis rolling his eyes.

His locker door is still open and bag awaiting to be loaded with books, but Harry chooses to be irresponsible for once and shuts it without a second glance, not missing how Louis’ smile widens.

“Let’s go, babe.” Louis instructs as he takes Harry’s hand and leads them down the hall.

The remaining students don’t even glance at them anymore, so used to seeing them together ever since junior prom, and it’s nice, weirdly domestic.

When they reach the parking lot, Louis directs them over to a motorcycle and Harry’s heart stutters.

“What did I say about reckless spending, Lou?” he mockingly chastises, hoping the joke hides his worry. Louis is a student. He doesn’t have a lot of extra money and it really isn’t beyond him to pull a move like this.

Louis must notice Harry has gone stiff, since he takes a step forward and lays a hand on Harry’s cheek, sighing fondly when Harry nuzzles into it.

“It’s Zayn’s, relax.” he says, and Harry marvels for a second at how Louis just _knew_ before taking the helmet he’s passed and sitting behind the now situated Louis.

The bike is a glossy black, and between Louis and the sheer power of it, Harry is already feeling familiar pangs of arousal.

Wind gushes by Harry’s sides as they exit the parking lot. He has his hands wrapped tightly against Louis’s middle, head craned down and pressed against his back, and he feels oddly safe. It’s mostly because of how close Louis is, how Harry’s whole body feels like it’s cocooning Louis’ and how there is no wind where he’s pressed against his boyfriend. It’s like he’s carved himself a shelter in the middle of the chaos, and as he nuzzles into the sweatshirt he thinks he’d have no issue staying there forever.

Unluckily, or not since Louis still has his intense stare on, they reach the campus faster than Harry would’ve liked, his two hours of cuddling impossibly close now over.

Louis cuts off the engine and gets off, turning around to help Harry with his helmet before taking his hand and guiding him out of the parking spot. Harry finds himself walking through the familiar park where he and Louis sometimes go when the older lad has too much to study but still wants to be with Harry.(“ _I always want to be with you.” he says at night when the accusing lights are off and words are ushered like precious secrets_ ).

They’re lucky that Louis’ course isn’t very demanding, that the amount of people willing to study and become X agents  isn’t terribly high so students enjoy certain perks, like less homework and more practical learning than theoretical. Louis really loves that. Harry worries he won’t like it, but he still has time until he studies to become one too and it’s okay, he’ll have Lou.

Students laze about, the promise of a weekend enough for smiles and laughter to pop up, and they walk along the path, Louis’ hand swallowed by Harry’s. It feels almost like Louis is showing him off, like Harry is his most precious asset. Harry likes that, has his heart swelling whenever Louis introduces him to a new friend as “Harry, my boyfriend.” without a second of hesitance.

It’s been years but it still feels fresh as ever, maybe because of the stages they’ve gone through; from the shy, virginal beginning to what they have now, complete freedom with each other. Or maybe because it’s Harry and Louis and they were meant to work since forever. Either way, it doesn’t really matter, not when Louis is looking at Harry with wondering eyes and a soft smile.

When they get to Louis’s room, Harry puts the bags down and is immediately pushed up against the wall. Louis crowds him against the cool surface, his lips curved in a mischievous smile as he leans forward and pecks Harry’s lips once, then again. Both  Louis’ hands are on his hips, pushing Harry against the wall and rubbing the skin below his shirt in small circles as his lips find Harry’s once again.

It turns heated pretty quickly, the fact that they’re young, horny boys who usually have to resort to skype sex adding on to the rush. It’s been more than two weeks since Harry has felt Louis this close, since his hands were able to intertwine with his soft locks and his hips felt another pair push against them.

Louis’ tongue slides against Harry’s and he bites down on his lip, relishing on the moan Harry can’t hold back. He can feel his own cock pressing against his trousers as he pushes Harry harder against the wall in an attempt to get them closer, to feel more of Harry pressed against him.

Their skin is burning hot, and they’re actively rubbing against each other now, their erections obvious through the material of their jeans. Louis moves his hips in small figure eights and Harry reacts accordingly, his voice coming out in low moans in a stream of “Lou, Lou.”

After their first time, it became clear that Louis liked having power over Harry, that he got off on manhandling him around and that Harry got off on it too, so it became a thing for them. And maybe more so for Louis because he knew Harry could push him off without problem but he doesn’t.Louis would push Harry as far as he’d go and Harry would take what he was offered without a question, the obscene noises he made (And the _begging,_ sometimes) proof enough of the pleasure he got from it.

So Louis has no issues tightening his grip on Harry’s hips so he can no longer move them. Harry whines and tires to set free, but Louis crowds against him and places his lips over his ear.

“What do you want babe?” he whispers, eliciting a groan from Harry.

“Everything, anything, just _please_ , Lou.” Harry says back, words practically nonsense as they tumble out.

“Whatever you want.” Louis adds then. He wants it to be Harry’s turn today, wants him to enjoy himself as much as he can because Louis knows it’s hard, what they have, and he knows how it affects Harry. Louis wants to reward his boy for what he puts him through and so, waits for Harry to talk.

“Can I blow you?”Harry asks then, Louis choking a little and then nodding. He needs to close his eyes and will himself to calm down when Harry promptly falls to his knees and reaches for his jeans, popping the button and lowering the zip quickly.

Louis’ erection presses against the fabric of his boxers, and Harry mouths along it teasingly. He dampens the fabric with his mouth and runs his knuckles against Louis’ dick, looking up at him with glassy eyes as he lowers his underwear. Louis groans and curls his hand over Harry's hair, pushing him towards his newly freed prick as an incentive.

Harry eyes it with something resembling hunger before wrapping his hand around and pumping it a few times. He then edges forward and takes just the tip in his mouth, barely suckling on it, wet and needy.

Louis practically melts above him, several curses coming through his lips as he tightens his grip on Harry’s hair and holds on to the wall with his other hand. He knows Harry is good at sucking him off but he keeps getting reminded of just _how much_ every time he does it; how he enjoys it, how he gets really into it.

There’s an increasing tightness in his lower belly, and as Harry sucks more of his dick into his sinful mouth, Louis moans loudly at the sensation. He keeps doing it, taking more and more of Louis into his mouth until he is all in, looking up to Louis expectantly and-

“Fuck, _Harry,_ ” Louis moans, holding Harry’s hair tighter and thrusting shallowly into the appealing heat of his mouth.

Harry happily accommodates, relaxing his throat and making his tongue flat as it slides against the underside of Louis’ dick. They settle in a rhythm, Harry with his hands obediently away from his cock even though Louis has not instructed so, waiting for him as he hums around Louis’ erection.

Louis can feel himself get closer and closer to the edge with each pump and glance at Harry’s tear stained, flushed face, so he pulls off and up to very confused Harry.

“Want you to come first,” he says as he guides them both towards the bed, stepping out of his trousers as he goes.

Harry watches on his back as Louis rids himself from his shirt and crawls over on the bed, caging Harry in as he dips down for a kiss. It’s just as dirty and driven as the others, but this time Louis’ cock is brushing against his pants in the most pornographic way possible, making him moan into the kiss and rub against Harry as he trails kisses down his throat. He sucks on some select spots --under his clavicle, over his pulse point-- that make Harry squirm under him, tilt his head and let Louis take off his shirt.

His tan hands begin working on his zipper but Louis doesn't pull Harry's pants down. Instead, he kisses him again, lips parting and tongues daring. It's brief, cut off by Louis whispering in Harry's ear again.

"Turn around."

He almost never asks for this because Harry's face is the most amazing thing to watch while he falls apart but today he wants it to be different. Harry complies, his face to the side and body flat as Louis takes him by the hips and positions him so his bum is in the air. It seems to be pretty clear for Harry, who lays his weight on his knees, contently waiting for Louis who is now teasingly sliding his pants and underwear down his legs, barely enough to have Harry’s arse out.

Louis groans at the sight, at Harry’s milky skin that is just waiting to be marked, and he places one hand on each cheek, pulling them apart to reveal his hole. As he leans in closer he murmurs praise before gently sinking his teeth into a spot, Harry’s shaky breath encouraging to suck on it. When he’s fairly confident it’ll show, he moves to another spot, and then another, dotting Harry with marks that show he’s claimed by Louis and no one else.

He can feel Harry getting more and more restless, knows his cock is painfully neglected, so he makes one more love bite and leans back to appreciate his working.

Harry’s back is arched, his perky little bum waggling impatiently in the air.

“Come on, Lou.” He demands impatiently, the way he punctuates each word with a bum shake making Louis want to tie him down and punish him. But it’s not about Louis today.

Spreading his wrecked cheeks again, Louis leans in and breathes hotly over Harry’s hole, smirking when Harry gasps and rewarding him with a kitten lick over it. Louis then swipes his tongue over it again and again, laying it flat against Harry and pushing down on a love bite with his hand, knowing how much Harry loves the slight pain.

Moans resonate through the room, Harry clutching the sheets as he pushes back against Louis, who stops at that. Harry whines and turns his head around to look into a pissed Louis’ eyes.

“You’re being needy, Harry,” Louis says, knowingly spotting how Harry’s pupils widen at that. His boy loves it when Louis is rough with him, always comes much harder and gets a dazed look Louis is intent on giving him today.

“I’m sorry, I-” Harry starts spluttering, but Louis lifts his hand and smacks his ass soundly, cutting him off as his body inches forward.

“You know what happens to needy sluts Harry, now count,” Louis instructs, almost moaning at how Harry obediently stays still and presents his bum to him.

Louis slaps him, the noise echoing dirtily.

“One,” Harry counts, his voice gravelly and wrecked.

Louis then slaps him again and again, marvelling at the way Harry’s cheek turns red in a way that they know will be felt tomorrow. It’s getting harder and harder for Harry to count as well, and when they reach ten, Louis can hear the sob that is ready to escape.

Deciding it’s enough, Louis goes back in and softly caresses Harry’s abused cheek while he slowly prods his tongue into Harry. He can tell Harry is close, spanking always does it for him in ways they don't understand, so Louis prods at his hole more insistently, swiping his tongue over it after a couple of thrusts.

Harry is fluttering around Louis’ tongue as he pushes a finger inside, groaning at the piled up sensations that seem to be about to burst.

“I’m so close Lou,” Harry says, breathless and flushed as his cheek presses against the mattress.

Louis can feel him near the orgasm so he reaches around and pumps Harry twice, feeling him come with a strangled, “Oh, _fuck.”_ and Louis’ tongue deep in him. He keeps pumping him until Harry mindlessly pushes his hand away, but his bum is still in the air and Louis’ cock is pink and hard.

It doesn’t take much for him to come either, just a few pumps and his come is shooting all over Harry’s back with a strangled moan. When he’s done he slumps to his side, catching the lazy smile Harry is giving him.

They’re both too tired to move but Louis gets up anyways, remembering how Harry hates waking up to crusty cum from previous, sleepy sex. He comes back from the bathroom to find Harry stretching out slowly, so he sits next to him on the bed and swipes off the cum with a wet flannel, pressing a gentle kiss to his back when he’s done.

Harry’s hand reaches out and grabs his wrist, pulling him down and into the bed.

“You know I have to put this back, Harry.” Louis says pointing to the dirty cloth, noticing how Harry’s face turns into a scowl as he tugs harder, but not too hard (Harry is very good at moderating his strength, and when Louis asks how he does it, Harry hugs him closer and admits, “I’ve never wanted to hurt the people I love.”).

With a chuckle, Louis gives in and throws the piece of cloth carelessly. Harry accommodates him so that his long limbs wrap around Louis’ perfectly and they’re snuggled under a blanket, and Louis sighs contentedly.

“I’ve missed you.” Harry admits after a while of peppering kisses to Louis’ bare shoulder.

Rubbing circles into Harry’s hand, Louis whispers back. “I’ve missed you too.”

 

**_23 and 25_ **

“How about this one Zayney?” Louis asks, pointing to a white gold band encrusted with red rubies.

Zayn looks at it and shakes his head. “Too flashy.”

Louis sighs and steps away from the display case, dropping his hands down in frustration.

It’s the third shop they’ve tried and Harry is probably beginning to get suspicious of these ‘shopping trips’ with Zayn. Luckily, they trust each other too much for him to snoop around, but all the delay is making Louis nervous. What if they don’t find a ring and Harry discovers Louis’ plan? It’d be a  disaster and more embarrassing than Louis is prepared to handle. Harry deserves the perfect proposal and Louis is going to give it to him.

All the waiting around is also making Louis more desperate and less picky which confronts a dilemma. One the one hand, he wants to give Harry the most perfect ring, which they have not found yet, but on the other, he can’t wait to be married to him, wants to blurt out ‘marry me’ everytime Harry giggles or kisses him.

Louis’ phone rings, and when he notices it’s Harry, he can’t help but panic.

“Hey babe,” Louis says, cringing at how his tone is just that little bit off.

“Hi Lou,” Harry greets back. “I just wanted to know if you’re coming home for dinner?”

Louis turns around and sees Zayn staring intently into the display that is only the second one from tons in the shop.

“Nah, gonna grab something with Zayn but I’ll get there around nine.”

“Oh,” Harry says, voice now dimmed. Louis hates himself a little. “Okay, be careful.”

“Always. Love you.” Louis lets out, hoping that Harry doesn’t take his omission wrong.

“Love you too.”

Harry hangs up and Louis heads over to where Zayn is again, clapping him softly in the back and glancing over to the many rings below the glass.

“How about that other one we saw earlier?”

*

Anne invites them over the next weekend.

Harry jumps at the chance, telling her they’ll be there on Saturday before lunch and packing them both a small bag. Louis watches him fondly from the bed, his bag of chips rustling whenever he picks one up to toss it into Harry’s hair. Harry doesn’t get mad, just shakes his head and picks it out to pop it into his mouth contentedly.

The journey by car isn’t long, and it is spent with happy smiles and enthusiastic sing alongs. Louis has coffee in the travel mug, his comfy sweater on and his favourite person in the entire world by his side; he doesn’t think it gets any better than this. Or doesn’t until Harry sees a sign reading a very silly joke and giggles like a baby for half an hour. Louis does not coo, he is a grown man (except he’s not one when it comes to Harry).

Anne greets them with the biggest of smiles, wrapping Harry up in a hug and whispering in his ear sweetly while Louis sets their bag down.

“Haven’t forgotten about you dear, come here.” Anne says when she releases Harry and wraps her arms around Louis instead.

Louis lets himself be held for a moment, thinking about how long it’s been since he’s seen his own mum and the girls. He misses them a lot, and Anne’s flowery perfume just smells of home and love. He makes a point of calling his family soon, even though he has just phoned them to freak out about proposing and ring buying, because it’s not the same and well, he kind of needs to be held for a while now. Just to remember it’ll work out.

The table is set, so Harry and Louis freshen up and sit down, telling Anne about the time Harry almost blew a missionbecause he tripped over his own foot and landed on the power button of a noisy machine.

“It was an accident!” Harry complains, pouting.

Louis smirks. “So was the plane incident last week, love.”

“Shut up.”

Harry holds his pout, but Louis nudges his foot against Harry’s under the table, making him look up so he can see Louis’ soft smile. Harry’s mouth unwillingly turns up as he looks down into his plate, and Louis resists the urge to lean over the table and kiss him.

After lunch they lay down to rest on the couch, Harry’s head on Louis’s lap as he dozes off. He can probably feel Louis’ gaze on him, but Louis has no intent of taking his eyes off the adorable way in which Harry is curling up around him and yawning, his green eyes hazy with sleep as he blinks progressively slower until his eyes fully close.

Louis’ dainty hands draw mindless figures in the pale expanse of Harry’s cheek and he can’t help but chuckle when he touches Harry’s nose and it scrunches up. The resemblance to a cat is uncanny.

He doesn’t notice Anne looking at them, is too immersed in the way Harry snuffles to catch her fond smile.

When he is sure that Harry is asleep, Louis weasels his way out of the couch and heads over to the kitchen for a glass of water. Anne is there, scaring Louis when he realizes.

“Thought you were asleep as well.” he explains, embarrassed at his reaction.

Anne laughs. “No, I can’t sleep at this hour. Don’t know how Harry does it.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Louis says, shaking his head when he remembers the many places and hours Harry has plopped down and dozed off. He comes second only to Zayn in that department.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, though, so finish up and come with me?” Anne asks, and Louis nods swiftly.

He is scared of what she might say but when he has his glass of water, Louis follows Anne into the dining room, sitting down in a chair when she gestures to it. Louis taps his fingers against the glass, mentally running through the worst case scenarios.

Anne puts an end to it when he places a hand over his free one and speaks.

“Jay told me about you wanting to propose to my baby.”

The way she says it is neutral, but Louis’ mind goes into overdrive. _Oh why did you tell her mum? Does Anne have an issue with it? Oh my god what if she is against it Harry will be so sad, no_. He is frozen to his spot as these thoughts run on a loop though his head.

“Yeah, uh, I do want to do that,” Louis so eloquently starts, his nerves painfully evident. Anne just stares at him.

“Is that okay?” He tucks in.

Louis never really thought about getting her blessing because he’d been so convinced it was the right thing and their mothers would have no issues. Jay certainly has none but now he is not so sure about Anne.

She unexpectedly bursts out laughing at the question, shrill and shocking until she covers her mouth with her hand (probably what’s best if they want Harry to continue sleeping). It’s a gesture he sees mirrored in Harry all the time, but he doesn’t notice it right away because well, Louis is confused.

“Oh, baby, your face!” She says, still trembling with laughter.

Louis is still confused.

“Of course it’s okay, I couldn’t be happier for you two!” Anne exclaims, squeezing his hand.

“Really?” Louis asks, not wanting to be too relieved.

“There is no one else that’s better for Harry than you, Lou. How can I not want my baby to marry the love of his life?”

Louis feels his cheeks heat up at the statement.

He’s sure Harry is his soulmate, has been ever since they said ‘I love you’ to each other while they watched some Spiderman movie all those years back, but having someone else--someone as important as Anne--say so makes his heart swell.

He can’t help but get up to hug her as a silent “thank you” for her blessing and reassurance that it _is_ the right thing. He doesn't doubt it is but sometimes people’s repeated remarks ( _“aren’t you a bit too young to get married this soon?” “You knocked her up didn’t you? Only reason I know.” “Are you sure kid?”_ ) get to him.

When he lets go, Anne seems to suddenly remember something, asking Louis to hold on a minute and dashing up the stairs. A tiny box is in her hand when she comes back, and he places it in front of Louis as she sits down again.

Anne motions with her head as to say “go on” and Louis obeys, taking the small box and opening it.

“It’s a ring Harry’s grandfather gave to his grandmother for their fiftieth anniversary.” she explains while Louis picks the delicate object and takes a closer look.

It’s a simple silver design made in white gold with a diamond resting tastefully in the middle. It’s the simplicity Louis wasn’t finding and the elegance he’d pictured, and as he checks the inside a gasp falls from his lips.

Inscribed into the gold are the words _“You make me strong”_ and Louis’s heart tugs at just how fitting those words are for them.

Sure, they have powers but it’s nothing compared to the boost Harry’s smile gives him or to how they work at their prime when they’re together. Harry’s approval and pride is Louis’ best motivator, and he doubts he’d be as good at being him as he is without his boy.

It’s the _one_ , no doubts.

“She used to say it was her lucky charm when she was out on a mission and I thought you’d want to give Harry that feeling of safety and reassurance too,” Anne goes on, the smile on her face warm and fond. “I know it’s a simple ring but I don’t think you want to take chances with Harry and I know I don’t.”

Louis lets the words sink  in and feels his eyes begin to water with emotion, clearing his throat right after in an attempt to not fall apart on Anne right there.

“It’s perfect.” He says in almost a whisper, as if it’s their own secret, this marvelous ring and the promises it carries.

Placing it in the box, Louis puts the ring in his pocket.

“Thank you mum, thank you _so_ much.” He says, his voice breaking but going unnoticed as Anne sniffles and laughs wetly at herself.

Louis joins in and then they’re chuckling together at themselves as they try to dismiss the wetness in their eyes.

When they settle down again, Louis notices there's a beam of light falling directly in his face. Anne is still smiling at him.

“So how will you do it, gonna pull out the big guns?”

 *

The first time Louis tries to propose, it’s at a fancy restaurant.

It’s the perfect scenario, both of them in their best clothes as they arrive to the exclusive italian place Louis had to phone thirty times and bully an assistant to get a reservation in. The place is luxurious and as they’re directed to their table, Louis catches Harry eyeing everything with silent wonder.

There’s a candle in their table, and the light dances around Harry’s features, sparkles taking home in his emerald eyes. He looks beautiful, and Louis doesn’t doubt in saying so, chuckling when Harry blushes and ducks his head.

A short, blonde girl turns out to be their waitress, and as Harry orders something he can’t even pronounce, Louis decides to pop the question when dessert comes. That way he figures if Harry says no, the heartbreak ice cream will readily be available.

“This is _really_ good.” Harry all but moans around a forkful of his plate and Louis nods. His own dish is delicious, and even though he is so nervous he could die, the food makes him slow down a little and concentrate on what is happening now.

When he really looks at Harry, Louis finds he has a sauce smear over by his chin and can’t help but laugh at his boy.

“You’ve got a little-” He says, motioning to the spot.

Harry’s cheeks turn the faintest pink colour and he reaches out to clean himself, but he keeps missing the pot with each swipe.

Louis sighs mockingly exasperated, and leans over to brush it out. Harry’s tongue surges out last minute and he kitten licks Louis’s thumb, giggling adorably when Louis jerks his hand away in surprise and shoots him a (terribly accomplished) glare.

Their dishes are then taken away, and Louis spots a waitress bringing them over what appears to be their dessert. He is absently patting the square box in his pocket, about to do it in any minute but then the waitress brings over a plate neither him nor Harry ordered.

While she sets it down, Harry’s face mirrors Louis’ confusion.

“The man over there,” the waitress says, pointing to a table where a skinny man in what must be his thirties is sitting, eyeing their table with interest. “sends the cake with the hopes that you’ll want to join him later for drinks at the restaurant’s bar.”

Harry blushes but Louis is about to murder someone by the time she finishes explaining.

“Tell him that no, he will _not_ be joining him.” Louis states, crossing his arms and trying not to show how he has considered going over that stupid man’s table and slapping him out of spite.

The waitress seems surprised but she nods.

Just before she goes, Harry shoots Louis a look and adds “But thank him, please.”

When she’s left, Harry takes a look at Louis and his face softens.

“Come on Lou, it’s not a big deal.” He says, and Louis’ heart tugs at that.

It could’ve been a big deal but now he can’t do it, won’t propose when their whole evening has been ruined and he feels like crawling into bed to mourn his bad luck and maybe send death threats to that stupid interrupting guy as well.

Louis face is in a pout, and though he is happy when Harry doesn’t touch the dessert as to not upset him further, Louis picks up a spoon and is about to dig in-- hey, a free plate is a free plate, as Niall would say-- when he sees the tall guy coming over to their table.

“ _Oh great_ ,” He spits out, not changing his menacing stare when he looks over to the quiff-sporting idiot that has come to a halt next to their table.

Seriously can’t he _see_ they’re in the middle of something?

“That dessert was for your friend over here,” Quiffy mcquiffson says, his horrible smile directed at Harry. Louis wants to punch him.

“Besides, you shouldn't be eating it, should you?” He adds, scanning Louis up and down with his scornful eyes. The guy lifts his hand up and the plate is sliding away from Louis and towards Harry, the spoon in Louis’ hand being tugged away by what must be his power.

“Uhm, excuse me,” Harry gratefully interrupts, clearly not as happy as he was seconds ago.

“What, darling? It’s true.” The guy says and that’s it.

“It is _not_ and i’d appreciate you fucking off and leaving me and my boyfriend alone.” Harry snaps.

He doesn’t do that, really get angry or curse often, but someone insulting someone he cares about always seems to do it. Louis feels something inside him swell at the words.

The guy’s face contorts in surprise, and he scorns at them before turning around and leaving. Harry thanks him in words full of sarcasm and then he’s slouching down his chair.

“I’m sorry Lou,” Harry says. His eyes look pitiful, and Louis is not to fond of that. “He was a dick.”

“Yeah,” Louis says absentmindedly. He isn’t hungry anymore, and his wish to go home is much more acute than it was before. “Let’s just go.”

The whole ride home is silent, but just before Louis falls asleep, Harry mumbles into the back of his neck.

“You’re beautiful Lou, and I’d choose you over anyone any day.”

Louis goes to sleep with the first real smile in the past hours.

*

The second proposal attempt goes horribly as well.

During the day Louis has chosen, they’re out in the park with the boys, having a picnic and being all around happy. Louis thinks it’s the perfect time to propose but then Harry steps on some ant hill and his foot becomes so swollen they have to go to the hospital. Cue Louis over-panicking and Harry trying to calm _him_ down while his own foot is being prodded at painfully. Needless to say, Louis doesn’t propose and the embarrassment of the utter fail puts him off proposing for a whole month.

*

They have a dinner party in two hours, a big ceremony to honour how well their recent missions have gone and give them a few medals. It has happened before, so Louis knows they’ll come into the room, Niall floating above them just to please the onlooker and Liam trying to make sense of the sensory overload he gets from so many people together. Zayn will try his best to seem comfortable and not disappear, and Louis will buzz from one side to the other nervously until Harry throws him over his shoulder effortlessly or crush Louis’ hand in his.

After a while they’ll disperse and Louis will get to watch Harry get tipsy and attempt to dance until Louis gathers enough pity for him to lead Harry in a sloppy dance. They’ll kiss, go home, have sex and fall asleep comfortably intertwined.

The knowledge of what is going to happen, the routine they stick wordlessly to doesn’t bother him at all because Harry never makes things boring. He’ll make small comments people will laugh to out of pity and he’ll surprise Louis with a new silly face or story he’s repeated a thousand times but somehow always manages to change the ending to.

Louis thinks about this as he steps into the shower for the second time in the day (The first one involved Harry pulling roughly at his dick and Louis’ moans bouncing off the wall as he came). He washes up quickly, knowing he’ll take his time deciding on an outfit to then settle on the one he has had on his mind all along and then spending as much time with his hair as he can before Harry pulls him away.

When Louis emerges from the bathroom, Harry is bent down tying up his shoes but he must finish for he looks up and catches Louis’ eyes. It’s like they light up, a new sparkle that blossoms in a way that makes Louis feel egocentric for noticing but that is really there.

He can’t help it when he drops the towel he’s holding over his hair and walks over to the bed, lowering his upper body so he can peck Harry in the lips. It’s warm and soft where Harry’s lips press against his, making Louis melt into it without a choice.

The hands on his butt that push him towards Harry surprise Louis, and then they’re toppling over the bed, lips still together but now open with surprise. Chuckles escape them and break the kiss as Louis rearranges himself so he’s holding himself over Harry.

The way he looks, slightly flushed and happiness splayed across his features, makes Louis gasp at Harry’s beauty and when his boy looks up Louis knows there will not be a time better than this to ask Harry to be his forever.

It’s exactly _this_ that Louis wants. He craves more new memories with Harry by his side, he needs to know that he’ll always have that chuckle to come home to.

Harry looks up at Louis like he senses the enormity of the moment.

“Marry me.” Louis breathes into the air between them.

“What?”

“Marry me, Harry.” Says again and then makes a pause to swallow, collect his thoughts and process what he’s just done. He pulls away to get a better look at Harry and he can tell he’s excited but cautious, as if afraid Louis will backtrack.

“I want what we have to be forever, babe. I need to know you’ll be here because there is no one else I can fully be myself with, no one else I’d rather have breathless under me, so , for the third time you deaf manchild, will you marry me?”

Harry looks like he might be about to cry and his hand comes up to cover his mouth that has fallen open in surprise, but he nods eagerly, letting out an emotion filled “Yes”. He sniffles adorably after that, and Louis almost forgets the main thing, scrambling off the bed and taking it out the bedside table when he does remember.

“I love you.” Is all Louis says as he takes the ring in his hand and places it in its rightful spot in Harry’s trembling, outstretched hand.

“I love you too.” Harry replies, taking in the ring and looking up to Louis as to confirm that yes it is _that_ ring he’d always admired as a child. His tears are now spilling into his cheeks, and as Harry wipes one away, Louis caves into the need and kisses him.

Harry’s hands go around him and he holds Louis tight, separating moments later to let out a shaky breath.

“Most planned proposal ever.” Harry still manages to tease, lips pulled to the side in a hinting smirk.

“Oi, only been engaged for a second and you’re already nagging me!” Louis exclaims, drama pumped up for a second

“Someone’s gotta do it.” Harry explains, putting his hands up to emphasize his point.

“Just shut up and kiss me.” Louis mumbles back.

Harry does.


End file.
